Wednesday, April 13, 2011

black milk of daybreak

Today I found a persimmon tree in the forest which had a perfectly triangular stone coming up out of the ground at its base and I took it as an omen and tried to meditate there, but it was raining and it just felt too dramatic. Heading to Philly on Friday for just one day for a top secret mission (fig) that I hope turns out well (water). (Picture above of a grow-your-own crystals kit; below, of one of the girls in the Cottingly fairies scam rocking a hairdo, and a dream-forest.)

I rediscovered this poem by Paul Celan today. Most poetry I find overly poetry-like, but this resonates with me because of the actual sounds of the words in my head/mouth. It lends itself to being chanted. I'm not trying to be all Alvy Singer dragging Annie to the depressing film-- I think if you take it apart from its reference to reality it has this dream-like quality, and that is what it is that I love. (Picture below of an illustration of Vasilisa the Beautiful at the hut of Baba Yaga by Ivan Bilibin. Cool torch she has there. In the story I think the skull talks to her.)

I don't mind if no one ever sees this or reads it, because really it's just another way for me to selfishly record moments for my future-self. I wonder what will happen to all the ephemera like this that gets put on the internet, what of it will get recorded for a while, and who will see it in the future, and what it will mean then. If you do come across this I hope the rest of your day/night is totally magik. (Pictures below of Pat McGee shreddin, and then some khipu, Incan knot-writing [which, like most ephemera, is indecipherable today].)


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